2006-12-24 - 4:54 p.m.

Oh—I had done my research. IT IS BETTER TO HAVE HIGH BLOOD SUGAR FOR A FEW DAYS THAN IT IS TO HAVE LOW BLOOD SUGAR FOR EVEN A MINUTE was fully emblazoned on my brain. That is why on Sunday, when the mouth sores made another appearance on my cat’s mouth and his eating slowed down I smartly decreased his insulin injections and made an immediate appointment for him at the vet. Things went well there. It was affirmed that his insulin needed to be decreased if he wasn’t eating his normal amount and also, we tried, for the first time, another kind of treatment for the mouth sores. And it was working. It was really, really working. And the cat was eating again and in large quantities and Thursday I was confident that he could have his full insulin dose and gave it to him and Friday morning when I took him to the vet for another check everything was really good. We were all, owner, vet, cat, in good spirits. I took him home and he raised holy hell in the car just like he does when he is feeling normal and I kind of let my vigilance wane a little. Because it looked good. So I got home and gave him his insulin shot and I went shopping for last minute gifts and I came home and he came downstairs to eat and then he went outside and came back in and went upstairs to bed. Which is completely normal. I set about making Christmas cookies and kind of lost myself in the task until Eric called at four and told me I could come and get him from work then. So I went upstairs to check on the cat before I left and the first thing I noticed was the smell of shit. Then I saw my other cat huddled in the corner completely terrified. Then I saw him, Oscar, rigid on the floor by the bed, his tongue hanging out of an open mouth. He had lost control of his bowels before he fell off the bed and I was sure he was dead. I remember standing there for a shocked moment before my brain kicked in and screamed for me to get sugar syrup fast. I started dumping it into his mouth and rubbing it under his tongue and he wasn’t moving, he was totally paralyzed but he started growling at me and I called Eric and I was screaming and sobbing and pouring syrup all over the place…and Eric got here in an instant (thanks to his Jose Louis who dropped everything and sped him home) and we ran to the car and I was still sobbing and screaming and pouring syrup into the cat and we got to the vet and just about that time the cat started moving again and then he had a seizure and the vet pumped Valium into him and then his body temperature dropped so low it wouldn’t even register and….oh my god. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen. And holy fuck if that cat isn’t home now…sleeping peacefully in his usual spot on the couch. HE MADE IT. Friday we were at the vet for five hours with him…I huddled over him for four hours blowing hot air on him trying to get his body temperature back up and finally, five hours after arriving his temperature was almost normal and we brought him home for the night so he wouldn’t be alone in case he had another seizure. I was supplied with Valium and I had the honey ready. We sat on the couch for hours with him. He wasn’t moving…I was still sure he was going to die. Finally he just decided to get up. It was bizarre. And he wobbled all over the place and we realized at some point that he was blind. All night we had to follow him while he crashed into walls and through the house. But we couldn’t keep him down because he would start yowling and panicking. We just had to follow him and keep him from falling off stairs. All night. And I was still pouring honey into him because we had no idea what his blood sugar was doing and he was displaying hypoglycemic symptoms and christ. This was just something. So yesterday morning, after not sleeping all night, we brought him to the vet again and they kept him all day to monitor him and at 1:00 his blood analysis came back and all his organs are good…great, not damaged…but you know, he still couldn’t see and his sugar was high…and he aggressive as hell which is NOT him. They have never had problems getting blood from him but yesterday they had to put him under to get it. …..So. I slept all day and at 7 we went back to get him and he was lucid. And seeing a little bit. And when we got him home he jumped up on the couch (and then fell off)…and he slept all night curled against me and he’s eating and seeing and I just cannot fucking believe this. This afternoon he played with a string! Oh—he’s not out of the woods yet. His sugar is still all messed up and he is still wobbly-ish and there are still issues. But…he survived the most violent thing I have ever seen a body go through.

And I have finally, after two days, stopped shaking.

Merry Christmas! It’s a Christmas miracle. For sure.

Oh, and PS…I married the greatest man on the planet.


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